Watching You, Watching Me
by DreamBrother
Summary: Missing scene from Thirteen. His brother could have easily been in the cross-hairs of a sniper killer as through the viewing lens of a camera. Written for Team Schmoop in the Numb2rs Write-Off with the theme of "watch".


**Disclaimer: **Hah. Me? If that was true, I wouldn't be living off the staple student diet of pasta. Numb3rs isn't mine - please don't sue.

**A/N: **Written for Team Schmoop in Round 12 of Numb3rs Write-Off (because I need deadline pressure to write, it seems). My theme was "Watch", and the fic had to be related to an episode. This was supposed be a two-episode one-shot, but you do not need to know the drama behind working to submit this on time. So the other tag, which was to Thirty-Six Hours, will come later, either as a second chapter to this, or as another fic under a new name.

On a more personal note, my winter break starts in a week, and I'll be home by Monday. A few days to settle back in, and I promise to catch up with review replies and most importantly, reading and reviewing all the latest fic that I've missed!

* * *

**Watching You, Watching Me**

_-"Thirteen"-_

Turned out the pictures of him and his team, which included his brother, hadn't been taken by the sociopath aiming for ascension – it didn't comfort Don, however, to know that their observer was still someone who'd sniped down two people in cold blood. How easy it had been for Clay Porter to track their movements, to take pictures of them without their noticing.

To potentially follow any one of them home.

To be a target through a living room window if their watcher had felt so inclined.

Don cared about the safety of his fellow team-mates, sure. Megan, David and Colby risked their lives on a daily basis, doing things and going places based on his orders. But they each wore a badge and a gun, had the same training he'd had, had known the risks when they'd signed up for the job. He hadn't forced them into anything.

He couldn't say the same about his little brother – the mathematician who wielded a piece of chalk as his primary weapon, his defence against the harsher aspects of the world.

Charlie, who'd only gotten involved in consulting for the FBI because big brother was an agent with a case that wasn't getting solved.

Charlie, who'd already been targeted by a sniper once, let alone been shot at in what was supposed to be the safe vicinity of the FBI office.

Charlie, who was tagging behind his older brother in the pictures, eager to jump in and provide another analogy or two, unaware of the danger he could have possibly been in, as easily in the cross-hairs of a sniper killer as through the viewing lens of a camera.

He jerked as he felt a hand on his shoulder, uncharacteristically unaware of his surroundings. His head shot up to see who it was, and knew he shouldn't have been surprised to find that the hand belonged to the very person he'd been thinking about.

"Hey," Charlie said cautiously. It was often that he caught his brother off-guard, especially at the work-place. "You okay?"

"Hey, yeah, sorry, was a little bit distracted." Don hurried to appease. "What's up?"

"Was just about to head home." Nodding his head towards the pictures covering Don's desk, he asked: "That his, the vigilante's?"

"Clay Porter's, yeah."

"I heard Colby talking about him – said something along the lines of seeing obsession done better."

"Excellent photographer he may not be, but don't think anyone is doubting his sniping skills at the moment," Don replied. His guilt over involving Charlie in the dangers of his job propped up once in a while, but usually his brother's invaluable expertise in helping them catch criminals that much quicker usually buried them. That didn't mean that there weren't small triggers which brought them back up, and knowing that Charlie's presence at crime-scenes could have resulted in harm was one of them. He tried not to let his inner feelings show as he looked away from his brother and back at the photographs.

"Huh," he heard from overhead and a hand crept into his line of vision, turning the photo slightly to the side. "At least he got my good side. As for you..." Charlie's brow creased as he looked at his brother thoughtfully, "Do you even have a good side?"

Charlie had to move quickly as Don's hand shot out to hit him in the stomach, laughing slightly as his brother barely missed his target.

"Smart ass," Don muttered. "Go on, get out of here."

"In a bit – when do you get done?"

Don shrugged his shoulders, and pointed to his team-mates who were busy at their desks, either typing on their computers or talking into their phones – or both, in Megan's case. "We're trying to find Porter before he goes off the grid – though I doubt we will. And then there are reports to write... Probably not until later tonight. Why?"

"I was thinking we could pick up where we left off, with the double date." Charlie paused for a second. "Tell you what: I have to head to CalSci now. If you get done by a decent hour, call me. I'll come with Amita and we can do something for dinner, yeah?"

"Sure. Now go away," Don said, knowing his brother wouldn't take it the wrong way, not after so many years of working together.

"And he wonders why he doesn't have a good side...," Charlie muttered to himself as he walked out of the cubicle, turning his head back to shoot a smile at Don's affronted look.

Shaking his head, Don watched his brother disappear into one of the elevators before turning his focus onto the photos in front of him. He quickly gathered them together and shoved them back into the evidence bag.

Charlie would be fine. The dangers to him were few and far between, and Don was more than motivated to deal with them.

After all, it was his job to watch out for the little brother, right? He'd been doing it most of his life, and he didn't see any reason why he couldn't carry on with it for the rest of it, however long or short it might be.

**Khatum (The End)**

**

* * *

**

_This fic was written for Numb3rs Write-Off. After you've read the fic, please rate it by voting in the poll located here: http: // www. livejournal. com /poll / ?id = 1302908__ (remove the spaces) (Your vote will be anonymous.) Rate the fic on a scale of 1 - 10 (10 being the best) using the following criteria: how well the fic fit the prompt, how angsty [or schmoopy] the fic was, and how well you enjoyed the fic. When you're done, please check out the other challenge fic at _numb3rswriteoff_ . Thank you!_


End file.
